


Ringing it In

by FoxVII



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve Party, barry flirts with the wrong person, but it all works out, drunk julian, platonic snowbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxVII/pseuds/FoxVII
Summary: The architecture was one thing. Being elbow to elbow with Hollywood elite was another entirely. Needless to say, Barry had underestimated both the event and Hartley’s connections. The blazer that was thrown over the plaid shirt and jeans just did not seem to be cutting it.In his defense, it was aniceshirt andnicejeans.In which Barry flirts with the wrong person and Julian is more than a little tipsy. At least they both have good friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Galo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Galo/pseuds/Galo), like everything else I write. Original prompt being:  
>  _Hartley's got his parents' mansion for the day so they invite a bunch of like celebs and shit and Tom Felton is on the guest list and Barry mistakes Julian for Tom and flirts with him_  
>  _Caitlin needs to get Julian tipsy enough to serenade Barry_  
>  _Also, I want Julian to commandeer the DJ set for a hot sec just to thank Barry for everything he's done and people applaud his cheesy speech and Barry dies_
> 
> I couldn't hit _every_ point in the prompt but I tried. =.=

You’d think there would only be so many ways that time travel could affect one person’s life. But no. The first time Barry traveled back in time, Hartley Rathaway had gone from ‘mastermind meta from hell’ to ‘sometimes ally of Team Flash’.

Great. Awesome.

Evidently, the _second_ time Barry time travelled, Hartley transitioned from ‘sometimes ally of Team Flash’ to, ‘ _frequent_ ally and we often hang out so come over to my parents’ mansion for New Year’s because why not?’

What in the actual hell?

Barry wasn’t certain whether Hartley’s parents had always been _this_ wealthy...or if he’d accidentally improved their lives yet again. Somehow he’d ‘fixed’ the homophobia and now granted them a successful business enterprise, all without having ever met the pair.

He was almost scared to know what would happen if he altered time yet again. While the part of Barry Allen that would always be a scientist _itched_ to know the outcome, he also knew that if he started playing with timelines just for the sake of experimentation he’d have Time Wraiths after him faster than…

Well, faster than _himself._

At any rate, Hartley _had_ changed and now Barry found himself at a sprawling estate richly enough to rival that of Queen Mansion.

The architecture was one thing. Being elbow to elbow with Hollywood elite was another entirely. Needless to say, Barry had underestimated both the event and Hartley’s connections. The blazer that was thrown over the plaid shirt and jeans just _did not seem to be cutting it_.

In his defence, it was a _nice_ shirt and _nice_ jeans.

The deep thrum of music greeted him as he stepped through the mansion’s ornate double doors. It’s a proper party, something out of a movie, complete with flashing lights, a DJ and just the very hint of a fog machine.

Barry slunk his way to the nearest wall and scanned for someone he knew. Indeed, there were more than a few of those, but famous faces didn’t count as people Barry knew _personally._

Salvation from wallflower-hood for the rest of the night came in the form of bright blue eyes and gently-curling hair.

Julian.

So he _had_ made it to the event. From what snippets Barry had picked up, Julian had been debating his attendance on and off for the month leading up to the party. While Barry had been as intent as both Caitlin and Cisco in getting him to join them, Barry had...different motivations.

So what if he didn't know how to ask the guy out? All he really needed was to be next to him when the clock struck twelve...and laugh it off if the offer for a kiss was rebuffed.

Which, of course, wasn't only a bad plan riddled with holes, but a cheap one at that. Then again, inviting him to the movie that one time also hadn't quite gone as planned so Barry was predictably wary.

 _'C'mon, Barry. You've faced worse. Just...go over there and just. Talk to him,'_ he reminded himself. All he was lacking was a mirror and the self-to-self pep-talk would've been perfect.

Barry took a steadying breath and wove through the crowd. Overhead, the speakers echoed with a dance remix of Justin Timberlake singing about how he 'got a feeling'. Barry could barely hear himself as he called out. "Hey! Hey Julian!"

No response. He probably couldn't be heard over the music, then. Barry hurried forward, catching Julian as the other came to a stop at the bar.

Barry sidled up next to him and set his elbow on the bar’s polished counter in the perfectly calculated image of nonchalance. “So,” he began. “Glad you could make it.”

“Pardon me…?”

Barry raised his hand. His elbow slipped fractionally and Barry shuffled closer to the edge of the bar to avoid falling on his face and making a _total_ fool of himself. (He had long since come to expect _partial_ foolery, however.) “No, it’s just, been really nice having you around these past couple weeks - having you be part of the team, you know? - and I’m glad you’re here now, is all.”

“I’m sorry but you must be--”

“Confused? Nah, no.” Barry shook his head and looked down for a moment before looking up to resume eye contact. Brown darts away from blue, fleeting, coy, even. Barry didn't want to _stare_ after all.

It was textbook flirting. Maintain distance, eye contact, indicate interest with subtle body language cues, laugh, smile, all without coming off as ‘creepy’. Really, Barry didn't resort to this kind of thing often. Indeed he was a big supporter of the ‘be yourself’ school of thought, but being himself around Julian felt hit-and-miss at best. Things would go perfectly one day, and yet Julian would still go back to being frosty the next, enough so to give Caitlin Snow a run for her money.

He was beginning to suspect that it might not be _him_ who was the problem but something to do with Julian himself. However, but Barry Allen was, and always would be, more the sort to shoulder any and all blame himself and _fix_ it than assume that he wasn't part of the issue at hand.

So, this was him ‘fixing it’, though from the baffled, wide-eyed look on Julian's face Barry wasn't actually sure if it was working.

No problem. Time to step it up.

“It's been really great getting to know you, these last couple months-" never mind that they were supposed to have known one another for a _year_ prior to this. “-and I know that things have been really tough for you, lately. Y'know, finding out that you were…” Barry waved a hand in the air. The bartender was too close for it to be safe to say the words out loud, not to mention the other party goers milling nearby.

“Yeah. So, I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you, if you ever need to talk, or practice or whatever. I really do just want to help.” Barry reached out and set a hand on Julian's arm, counted to two, and propped it back on his own hip.

“Umm, so I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out for drinks again, sometime? Or, like coffee, maybe? I know this nice pl-”

Julian stuck his hand out in front of him. “My name is Tom,” he said, firmly, however gentle his tone. “I don't think I ever got yours. I'd suggest trying that again on whomever you _actually_ planned on asking out. You had some good lines there.”

Nausea hit Barry like a ten ton truck. _Oh_ . So _that's_ why Julian always looked so familiar.

Had Barry been wearing it, the Flash suit would've looked like a measly pale pink in comparison to his face. “I-I’m sorry! I'm so . You look just like-- I didn't...I...I'm...I need to go," Barry turned on his heel, promptly ran into the person behind him, and muttered out a half-dozen more apologies.

“Good luck?" he heard, behind him, but Barry didn't turn. No. Never. _Nope._

 _“Nah to the ah to the no, no, no,"_ Meghan Trainor agreed from the speakers.

If there existed in the world a substance that could make a speedster drunk, it was time to find it.

 

***

 

Caitlin’s heels clicked against the metal leg of the stool as she leaned over to confiscate a drink. “Alright. That’s enough for you.”

The ensuing glare was no less baleful for its being askew. Julian lifted his head off the the table, propping his chin in his palm. “‘Scuse. Weren't you just telling me that it's a party and I should be lightening up?”

“I _did_ say that," Caitlin agreed, patiently. Somehow Julian's accent got thicker in direct proportion to the amount of liquor he consumed.

“And I’m not even pissed yet. Pass it over, luv,” Julian said, sliding a hand across the table to steal it back. “You’re being contradictory my duck.”

“Your dook?" Caitlin questioned. The accent was one thing. The sudden onslaught of slang was something else entirely and there was only so many times she could check her phone for an ‘English’ to English translation. She studied him instead, brows furrowed. “As the person that insisted you come, I reserve the right to cut you off whenever I see fit," she countered, with a slight left of her chin a purse of red-painted lips.

“Not sure I know of this rule," Julian responded. He lifted the shot glass to study it - as though examining a precious stone - before he downed it, in a gulp.

Caitlin laughed lightly. “You aren't looking for courage at the bottom of that glass, are you?" she asked. Her eyes strayed to the far end of the great room, where they'd briefly caught sight of Barry before he vanished in the crowd.

Julian groaned softly, scrubbing his face with the palm of one hand. “It really isn't fair that you know I'm arse over elbow and I know nothing of that sort about you. Remind me again why I told you?”

Caitlin smiled thinly and remembered Ronnie. “Maybe later,” she promised. Dead spouses weren't the sort of thing that was a proper topic at a New Year's Eve party. “And you didn't. Tell me, that is. I guessed. And you denied it too colorfully.”

“Right. _That_ ," Julian said, drumming his fingers on the table and muttering something about ‘too-observant eyes’.

Caitlin checked her phone. “It's getting close to midnight. You could always just slide in next to him before the year ticks over.”

“I'm about a decade too old for that tactic to work," Julian commented dryly. Another server swung by with an additional set of drinks.

“Well, technically there isn't really an age cap on a New Year’s kiss.”

“A kiss alone isn't what I'm after.”

“ _Well then!”_ There was a gleam in Caitlin’s eye.

“That’s not--” Julian broke off into a sigh and buried his face in his hand. _Again._

Caitlin giggled softly and patted his shoulder. “Maybe the one you should be talking to right now isn't me," she suggested.

And maybe there was something to be said for New Year’s kisses. Julian drummed his fingers against the table. “You may be right,” he said, thoughtfully.

“You admitting someone else is right? Well, that’d be a first--” Caitlin felt a hand on her shoulder and turned, Cisco’s smiling face coming into view. “Oh _there_ you are. I wondered where you’d gotten to.”

“I saw _Nathan Fillion_ ,” Cisco replied, in an excited hiss. He perched down on the closest empty chair. “I _had_ to.”

“You do realize that you didn’t _actually_ meet Malcolm Reynolds, right?” Caitlin chided, shaking her head. Poor actors, honestly. It just couldn't be worth it.

“I _know_ it’s not him,” Cisco countered. “But I can pretend. Let me have this, okay? Hey, Julian, you've seen _Firefly_ right? Julian…?” Cisco turned back to Caitlin. “Wasn’t he just here?”

“He _was_." Caitlin sat a bit higher in her seat, peering over the heads around them. “Where did he…?”

Both jumped when they heard the music break off into the clatter of speakers and static as the mic was taken over. “Could I borrow this for a moment? Thanks.”

“I found Julian,” Cisco commented, dryly.

“Oh no.”

 

***

 

  
As Barry had expected there wasn't a substance readily available that was capable of inebriating a speedster. Though, as he put more and more thought into it, it stood to reason that there could, perhaps, be _some_ kind of chemical compound in existence which would have the same effect; something tailored to a speedster's body.  
  
Running a few possible chemical formulas through his mind did help distract Barry, enough to ease some of the shame-induced nausea. Some, but not all. It continued to roil in his stomach like the dregs of a malevolent potion. Nothing short of some invasive procedure could permanently erase _that_ mishap from his memory.  
  
The click of the mic being taken over pulled at his attention and Barry eyes drifted towards the DJ's platform. His heart stuttered to a halt in his chest as the lingering anxiety gathered itself up to helpfully inform him that this was it. This was the end. Tom was up on the stage. The story was going to be told to everyone in the room, Barry would never be able to take the Flash suit off again. Barry Allen, the man behind the mask was dead, gone, done. That's it. This was how Barry Allen would die.  
  
"I, yes hello, thank you. I would like to take a moment, before the year ticks over, to thank someone."  


_‘Huh?_ ’  


***  
  
  
"He is _amazingly_ coherent for a drunk. Is that, like, a British thing or just a Julian thing?" Cisco asked, head tilted to the side as he took in the drunken display.  
  
"Who cares! Just get him down from there!" Caitlin hissed as she began to press through the crowd to the stage, already red with secondhand embarrassment.  
  
"Now," Julian continued, determinedly. "I'd like to start by saying that this person isn't my friend..."  
  
"Is he serious right now?" Cisco yelled.  
  
"...But, I would like him to be."  
  
"Okay, hold on, Caitlin, maybe we should let him finish." Caitlin did, in fact, pause, looking curiously at the stage.  
  
"I want to start with saying that he's one of the best people I know but, I can't. Because that would be a _lie_ . He is, not perfect. His end of the lab is always a total _pigsty_ , honestly it's a wonder how he finds anything. Ever. He's continuously late. _No_ regard for authority. He’ll prattle on for hours instead of giving you a straight answer. He's infuriating. So, he is _far_ from being a perfect person," Julian swatted at the DJ's hand as he spoke, who had reached over to try and regain control of the mic and the situation boh. "Hands to yourself. I'm not done. Haven't even said his name yet, have I? Barry Allen?"  
  
Somewhere in the crowd, Barry clapped a hand over his face, re-adopting the red shade that he had only just shaken off. There really was only so much humiliation a person could handle in one day.  
  
Elsewhere, Cisco gave Caitlin a shove, nearly knocking her off her heels. "Go, go, go."  
  
Julian shifted away from the DJ, standing precariously at the edge of the platform. "No, Allen is not a perfect person. But he's also...forgiving," Julian said, his tone dipping to lower, softer registers. "Kind, definitely. Aggressively loyal. Even if it means throwing away his own dreams." Julian swayed in place, thoughtfully, however drunkenly. "He's sweet. Never stops trying to be your friend. It's almost irritating. It's too much good in one person. It's really not fair. Not fair, not when you also look the way you do," Julian mused, aloud. Somewhere along the line he'd gone from speaking to the crowd to Barry himself, though he couldn't quite catch sight of him in the dim room.  
  
"And you're real hero too. Saved so many lives and there's never going to be enough recognition for that, ever. The city really needs to organize more of those Fl--"  
  
Caitlin stumbled over to the next of cords and cables by the booth and stepped on the nearest power bar, catching the edge of the safety switch with her toe and flicking it to 'Off'.  
  
The rest of Julian's speech was spoken into a dead microphone, and swallowed by the sound of a large speaker hitting the ground. Witnesses would later say that it fell over on its own. The keen-eyed ones would've noticed that there was a slight blurring in the air around it before it fell. It would spark a few rumours about hauntings at the Rathaway estate in the coming days.  
  
For now, the audience was more concerned with the sheepish-looking, tall man who came up to the stage to drag Julian off. Barry touched a hand to Julian's elbow, murmuring a soft, "Okay I think that's enough for now."  
  
"Oh, so you _did_ hear me then." Julian sounded far too self-satisfied for a man who'd just made a spectacle of himself.  
  
"I think the whole room heard you," Barry said, guiding him away. Behind them a few hands came together to deal with the speaker situation, muttering theories about how it came to be. Others applauded them as they left the stage.

 _“Go get him!"_ one particularly drunk party-goer yelled.  
  
"Mm," Julian answered, his attention wholly on Barry. “Knew you were in there. Somewhere. Needed to be heard."  
  
Barry chuckled. Somehow it was easier being in Shame Hell when there was someone else there with him. Not that Julian seemed particularly embarrassed at the moment. "You could've just found me and told me."  
  
"Yeeeah, I could have. But I was sort of aiming for the grand gesture thing."  
  
"Yeah, I think you managed." He blushed deeper as Julian cozied up to him. Cautiously, Barry returned the gesture, setting an arm around the polite territory of Julian's shoulders.  
  
Barry led him from the massive atrium to a setee in an adjoining, unoccupied hallway. The dim thrum of a bass beat in the background indicated that the music had been sorted out and the party had resumed. "You've been drinking," Barry observed.  
  
"Some." There really was enough space on the setee for them both to sit comfortably with a respectable distance between them, but Julian remained close, resting a head against Barry's shoulder.  
  
"Uhh, a bit more than 'some' If you decided to do, well, _that_ ."  
  
"Point. But people can do stupid things even when they're sober."  
  
Barry paused at that. "...True." He sent a wary look Julian's way. "So...you think you did a stupid thing?"  
  
"The doing? Yes. Probably. Not the saying. The ‘saying’ I should've done a long time ago.”

“Yeah? So, you meant those things you said?”

Julian gave him a flat look. “Well I didn't pull them out of my arse on a whim.”

Barry released a soft snort. “Fair. So, I guess this means that you don't hate me?”

“No,” Julian replied, after mulling it over. “I think I did, once. Out of principle. But it didn’t last. You’re persistent. When it comes to getting people to like you, I mean.”

Barry’s arm tightened around Julian’s shoulders. “So...it worked?”

Another flat look - flatter than before, if anything - as though Julian was deciding whether or not to start regretting his heart’s decisions. “Yes? And I’m talking about the different kind of ‘like’. The romantic kind."

As though suddenly realizing himself, Julian recoiled, shying back from Barry's touch. "You don't...ah, that's right. Didn't need to admit _that_ much. I'll...probably not remember this tomorrow. If that helps."  
  
Barry gathered him back, quickly. "So, funny story that you're also not going to remember tomorrow, but, did you know that Tom Felton looks just like you? Like, _exactly_ like you. And I might've flirted it up a bit with him before I realized that it wasn't you. But I guess it answers why you always looked kind-of familiar to me."  
  
Julian was frowning and Barry wasn't making an incredible amount of sense. It was time to fix that. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Julian's forehead. Blond hair tickled at his nose until he pulled away. "Translation: I was trying to ask you out."  
  
Julian smiled, and damn if that lopsided, almost shy - but definitely happy - smile didn't do something to Barry’s heartbeat. "Could ask me now," Julian suggested.  
  
"Well, no point doing _now_ . I'll end up coming by to pick you up and you're wondering what I'm doing at your place because you didn't remember that we had a date in the first place," Barry pointed out. There was probably a similarly stupid grin on his face but there wasn't a mirror within spotting distance that he could use to confirm that.    
  
"Mm. True. But I'd find something else for us to do," Julian responded. Barry didn't know whether that look was supposed to be coy or seductive but he was blushing anyway.  
  
A steady chant grew in volume from the room behind them. _'Ten. Nine. Eight...'_  
  
Julian tipped his head up and there was no mistaking the smirk on his lips. "Are you going to kiss me, Barry?"  
  
_'Four. Three. Two...'_  
  
"I already did, didn't I? Technically?"  
  
_'One!'_  
  
"I mean a _proper_ kiss, Allen.”  
  
_'Happy New Year!'_  
  
Julian surged upward and his lips connected solidly against Barry's palm, a disgruntled noise flying from his throat. "Wha--?!"  
  
"Hey, when I _do_ kiss you properly for the first time, I want you to be able to remember it," Barry insisted, gently.  
  
Julian pulled away, pouting and frowning at once. The furrows of his brows told Barry that he was gathering up a protest and Barry quickly added a, "You called me a hero, remember? So now, let me be one."  
  
Julian grumbled softly to himself, settling back down against Barry like a disgruntled cat. He reached across, taking Barry's hand in his own to press a kiss to the backs of his knuckles instead. A cough of a laugh burst from Barry's chest. "Smooth. Consider me wooed. I mean, I was already but now it's..yeah," he finished, lamely. Compensation for the poor word choices came in the form of another forehead kiss. “Now, sober up quickly so I _can_ give you that ‘proper kiss’."  
  
Julian huffed, lacing their fingers together. "It better be bloody _memorable_ ." A pause and he added, “Happy new year, Barry.”  
  
Barry laughed softly. "Yeah. Happy New Year, Jules. And, I promise it will be." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to follow me on tumblr [here](http://velocitatis.tumblr.com) so we can cry about these nerds together.


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